|
Kevin McLellan Lily, a friendly
stranger, says “No one has ever guessed where I’m
from” at this cold New Year’s Eve bash
and I easily grabbed a hold of Tallahassee
and I became correct and now as we dance to
Golden Years, she looks in my eyes as if
they opened inward to my body remembering
itself and this is when she calls me psychic. * Dear
Kate, it doesn't matter that the almost -a-girlfriend
showed. This secret amidst the other secrets in
that room mingled freely in front of
the shrimp crepes and brie, and this exposure is why some adults are not able to. * Desdemona dear, had
your parents not read the story before they named you? And what do you have that I do not?
Wait! Don’t answer that. I know that you are younger than I am
and that I’m also deserving of love. * Denim holds a hefty
girl who throws-up a mango- color just after this
pink neon
PYSCHIC ADVISOR at the corner of a 3-story on
Prospect. Kevin McLellan has
recent or forthcoming poems in journals including: Arch, Barrow Street , Drunken
Boat, Exquisite Corpse, Hunger Mountain, Interim,
Southern Humanities Review and many others. His chapbook Round
Trip, a collaborative series with numerous poets, is forthcoming
from Seven Kitchens (Spring, 2010). Kevin lives in Cambridge,
Massachusetts. |
|
|